By The Way
by Cant.Resist
Summary: Soulmate tattoo AU with a slight surprise Winter Soldier x Reader... A/N: may end up a Part 2


Again, the curling of the lips and obvious aversion in their eyes told her all that she needed to know, she was not welcomed here. She nodded her head, without another word turned on her heel.

_It didn't matter how many times it happened, yes she was used to it…but_, as her eyes blurred with tears, _it didn't hurt any less._

She kept moving, moving faster through the throngs of people littering the streets. She pushed herself to continue on, although her feet ached and her breath came out in ragged puffs. _Just make it home,_ she told herself, _she could hide herself from all the ones that did not seek her._

Her keys clinked together as she tried to unlock her door in a hurry, the sooner the door thudded shut the sooner she would feel safe.

"Huuuhhhhh…" She sighed, shuddering out a shaky breath. She stopped in front of her hallway mirror, poking in disgust at the mark on her neck. Each era had different variations and deviations of soulmate marks, but… nothing compared to the symbol etched into her neck.

_**DEATH.**_ That is what her soulmate mark conveyed, they were harbingers of death.

Who else, would develop such a mark in place for all to see? It was as if her soulmate was supposed to be able to spot her in a crowd. The social pariah, whom others kept a standard 5 foot breadth from. She had wished day and night since it had appeared that it would have been hidden somewhere more intimate.

So she could have avoided what they all whispered in her presence, her soulmate must be a—

_Killer._

_Monster._

_Deplorable._

_Devil incarnate._

She could have avoided the prejudice and profiling. Perhaps, her family would have still loved her? She turned from the mirror bounding down the hallway.

She huffed, _why in the hell should she waste her time thinking about people who_…she couldn't even remember their faces anyways. The happy memories almost haunted her like the remnants of a nightmare; her heart pounding and she couldn't sparsely remember anything after waking up.

She flicked on her kitchen light and—"Don't scream."

Bucky watched her eyes circle back and forth, like she was trying to piece together a puzzle. After a moment, she resigned and plopped herself in the other chair facing him. _That…That definitely wasn't the reaction he was expecting._

His dark hair was hanging down, slightly framing his face, while obscuring the rest. She wondered whether he was worried that she would recognize him. _Doubtful._

His arms were huge, like the rest of him, but she had noticed the subtle difference. She watched his hands, flesh and mechanical twitch as if he was nervous. _He could probably kill her with those hands alone._

Not only was there a handsome stranger sitting at her table, but honestly after the day she had, being robbed or tortured by this man stirred a giddiness in her gut. _Not scared, only surprised._ The logical part of her brain must be misfiring. Why? Wasn't? She? Terrified?

"If I can make a request, please…please…take your sweet time doing so." _She would be satisfied if those soulful blue eyes were the last pair she ever saw._

Her seductive tone, made him jolt in his seat, his heart beating wildly in his chest. "Is that a joke? What do you think I'll do to you?"

She shrugged, "Either you're here to fuck me or kill me. I'd prefer the former, but dying is acceptable too." She cracked a smile, _this man was too easy to fluster despite his quiet demeanor._ Millennials had no shame in admitting that the best skill they possessed as a generation was always on the verge of an existential crisis.

Dread and foreboding was her bread and butter, next to her loneliness.

Bucky wanted to reach out and hold her. He could see her pain, _the despair_ she pushed down with every breath. Her morbid humor had him gobsmacked.

_Dames nowadays were much different that he remembered._ For more than 70 years, he infiltrated, captured and disseminated targets of all shapes, sizes and backgrounds. _But nothing like her…_

_**Can't coexist, it's not enough. **_His eyes focused on her mark, she tried to hide beneath her hair. _**She could love him without restraint, without worries.**_ Her smile was kind, and almost refreshing. His soulmate perhaps could break through his self-loathing, _**just enough to make him feel whole again.**_

He squeezed his head, digging his fingers, flesh and mechanical alike into his temple. He was struggling, struggling as if his thoughts were threatening to tear him apart.

"Why stay here? No one wants you around right? Not since your parents dumped you off in foster care." He instantly regretted blurting out his thoughts, her gasp sounded pained.

"Ouch. Umm… not to be rude but I may retract my earlier offer." The corner of her lips quirked downward, making her frown all the more severe. "Perhaps you could—

He placed his hand over her own, "I'm sorry, please _Y/N_, I'm…I'm not so good with my words. I didn't mean to say it like that." He could feel her shudder, making him warm once again. Her hand felt so soft beneath his.

"Then what did you mean? Because, that wasn't fair to say, you don't know me, and how could you understand my struggles?"

"_Hydra has everything about you_," he muttered. "Everyone will know about you, eventually. S.H.I.E.L.D. was compromised, all files released to the internet."

She held up her hands, panicked and confused, "Why would the government…have files on me?" Scenarios were filling her mind, what was so special about her? _Was it her soulmate?!_

His fingers flexed, he didn't care for absence and lack of warmth when she had pulled from his grip. When his gaze finally settled on _Y/N_, his heart throbbed. Her hands were now covering the left of her neck. She was a smart gal, she knew this situation wasn't about her, but indirectly about her. Her soulmate was the target, making her guilty by association.

"Leave with me."

"I don't—"

"Do you know how much time I spent in the dark?" His voice was low, and heart wrenching. "Aren't you tired of the loneliness?"

She sighed, this stranger seemed to making too much sense.

"You've been alone a long time. It happened, roughly around 1991, right?"

Her eyes bulged, _how the hell did he know when she developed her mark?_ She was around 8 years old then. Her jaw slackened, "How?"

He sighed guiltily, "It happened to be a busy year for me."

He jerked his head sharply, suddenly appearing very interested in the peeling wallpaper. He couldn't meet her eyes, _what if they turned cold?_ He pulled his tactical gear down, revealing the soulmate mark stenciled across his chest.

_IT WAS A SCYTHE! It was the same as hers!_ She gasped.

It was several minutes before he dared to meet her gaze again, her sniffling ate away the little resolve he had. She gave a small sobbing laugh, before settling on a tearful grin, "I'll leave with you."

**TWO MONTHS LATER**

Widow dropped the report right into Roger's lap, instigating a questioning look from Steve. "Our next mission?"

Natasha perched herself on the desk to his immediate right, crossing her arms. "Something of interest." Steve arched a brow, before opening the manila folder.

_It was a missing person's report? Y/N L/N? Camera across from her apartment complex caught someone…no Bucky, escorting her out onto the street with a gymbag._

"Who is she, Natasha?" Although weary, Steve knew by the twinkle in her eyes, this woman meant something to him.

"It's not really, who she is Steve, but rather what she is. Turn to the next page." Little did Captain America know, by turning that page, he had discovered _**their**_ soulmate. His fingers unconsciously ghosted over his mark as well, a scythe identical to the ones in the file.

With determination in his eyes, Steve boldly declared to Natasha, "We have to find them."


End file.
